


Persephone

by Hoothootmotherf_ckers



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Team as Family, discussions of death but no darker than taz usually is, everyone in TAZ needs therapy, gratuitous greek mythology references, the obligatory taako and lucretia post-canon discussion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2020-03-02 20:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18818617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoothootmotherf_ckers/pseuds/Hoothootmotherf_ckers
Summary: Ten years ago, Lucretia made a deal with Death in a desperate play to save her family. Today, her time has finally run out. And she's okay with it, really.Taakosure fucking isn't, though. Who's ready for a death crime road trip?





	1. Heracles

**Author's Note:**

> TW: there's going to be a lot of discussions of death in this fic. Specifically, a character who isn't exactly suicidal by the usual definition, but is fine with/doesn't care about dying. I do not want this fic to be super dark, and I do not intend on major character death, but the end of this fic is a bit in flux at the moment, so I don't quite know where this will go. The intent is on just serious hurt/comfort, with at least a hopeful ending. If any of that changes, or anything gets especially dark, I will immediately update the tags and add explicit warnings in the notes.

Taako’s basking in the warm light of an average Tuesday morning at home when he hears a crinkle-tinkling crunch. “Hey Krav? You good?” he calls, carefully making his way toward the door. Kravitz doesn’t break things, really. Between magic and incorporeality, he either doesn’t touch things or catches them before they hit the ground. Maybe it was one of the cats? Shit, was that a vase?

It wasn’t a cat. Kravitz is standing frozen in the center of the dining room, orange juice and black, translucent blood dripping from his hand. The source of the noise, the remnants of the drinking glass that he’d evidently crushed, are in a pile at his feet. But Kravitz doesn’t even look at Taako, doesn’t seem to register the pain. All his focus is centered on a small, innocuous looking slip of paper held in his shaking hand. 

“Whoa, what’s going on?” Taako asks, eyes wide. Kravitz doesn’t say anything, just hands him the paper before looking at his bleeding hand with some sort of vacant curiosity. 

Taako takes it. He reads it over once, then twice. And then he shoves it in his pocket, gives Kravitz a kiss on the cheek, and sprints out the door. 

— 

The door to the Director’s office at the Bureau of Benevolence slams open, and Lucretia jumps, scattering papers across her desk. “Hey, next time you can just… knock…” She trails off, seeing Taako’s furious and - scared? - expression, and she tenses up, not sure what’s going on. He’s been avoiding her, ever since Story and Song. She can’t blame him.

He stalks over to her desk and slams something down on it. “Hey, Lucretia, want to explain exactly what the _fuck_ this is?”

She picks it up, hands shaking just a little, and something heavy settles in her chest at the thick cream stationery and black feather wax seal. “Oh….” she breathes, quietly. “I hadn’t realized… yeah, it’s about time.”

“About time for _what,_ ” Taako hisses. “Lucretia, what did you _do?_ ” Some distant part of her registers that he’s not angry anymore, he’s terrified. 

She sighs. “It’s okay, Taako. Really. I signed up for this, it was worth it. Now I get to deal with the consequences, okay?”

“Yeah, actually, fuck this.” Taako pulls out his Stone of Farspeech. “Hey all, emergency team meeting, Creesh’s office, _right fucking now_.”

—

Thanks to a few handy teleportation spells and inter-planar portals, Lucretia’s office is very crowded in just a few minutes, and the meeting is moved to a nearby lounge. Somehow, this all feels a lot more real surrounded by soft couches and her family, and Lucretia puts her head in her hands. 

She still doesn’t regret it, though. 

“So!” Taako stands, gesticulating wildly. “Guess what I learned today, what Lucretia has been neglecting to tell us?” His anger is back in full force. 

“Taako, chill,” Magnus snaps. “What’s going on?”

“ _This!_ ” And he shoves the letter in Magnus’s face. Taako watches, almost vindictively, as his expression goes from annoyed to shocked to horrified.

“As of today, the contract between Lucretia, also known as Madam Director of the Bureaus of Balance and Benevolence, and - and Her Majesty the Raven Queen of the Realm of Death, agreed upon precisely ten years hence, has come to an end…” His voice stutters out. “As agreed, the soul of Lucretia is now the property of Her Majesty, for all eternity, to be relinquished without complaint to any of Her Majesty’s Reapers for delivery to the Astral Plane.” 

Magnus drops the paper with shaking hands. “Lucretia?” he asks, voice hoarse. “What did you do?”

“I saved everyone’s lives!” she snaps, suddenly tired of this. “You all had Kravitz and the Queen on your backs all the fucking time, did you never once wonder why I didn’t? I died-“ she closes her eyes. “I died nearly as many times as you.” 

“You made a deal,” Barry says, understanding and resignation in his voice. “So you could stay out, keep finding the relics, you made a deal.”

“Yeah, I did,” she says, heavily. “This was - well, ten years ago, so about two years after… you know. And I was careful, but my luck ran out eventually. She stopped sending Reapers. She came in person.”

Lucretia closes her eyes, remembering the terror of that day. A moment of exhaustion, hunched over her desk with hands in her hair, wondering just how long she could keep doing this. And then a thunderclap, and she was not alone. Deep, dark eyes stared out at her from a bleached-white raven’s skull, waiting impassively to see what she would do. 

She’d never felt so small before. Not even that terrible, lonely cycle, when it was her against a hostile world, had made her feel so insignificant and powerless. And yet, she still stood, still spoke to the Queen with a fire in her heart and shaking voice, because she was terrified but she would not - _could not_ let that stop her. 

“She thought I was interesting, sort of novel in an annoying way. And I was desperate. If anything happened to me, if no one knew about the Voidfish, that would be it. The plane would be lost whenever the Hunger finally made it here, and-“ her voice cracks- “you’d never know the truth. I had so much I had to fix, so much to repair, I couldn’t let her take us-“ 

She cuts herself off, but it’s not fast enough. Davenport claps his hands to his mouth, muffling a curse, and with horror in his eyes he rushes out of the room. 

Merle lets out a long breath. “It wasn’t just a deal for you. She wanted Davenport, too, didn’t she?” 

Lucretia’s shaking, now. “He’s died almost as much as me, was a criminal as much as any of us. And I- I was the reason he couldn’t fight her on this, couldn’t defend himself. So yeah, I made a deal. I convinced her that I could make her life - unlife- hell if I wanted to fight her on this. I’d been doing it for years, and we both knew I couldn’t keep it up forever, but as long as I could it would be really fucking annoying for her.”

“You bet your lives on your ability to be a nuisance,” Lup says slowly. “I’m not sure if I should be impressed or horrified.”

“It was all I had,” Lucretia says, looking down. “Worst case, she’d kill us, but that’s no worse than what would happen if I didn’t try. And this - it wasn’t long after Wonderland. I didn’t have a lot of resources left.”

Magnus puts his head in his hands. “Gods, this is so fucked up.” 

“No, it’s not,” Lucretia snaps. “It’s the fucking laws of nature. I broke them, I made a deal to compensate, it all evens out, and now I get to deal with that.”

“Yeah, no,” Taako says, standing and beginning to pace. “This isn’t happening. We are not letting this happen, we are getting you out of this.”

“Taako, no,” Lucretia says, resigned. “I can’t break the deal. I can’t fight her or run away, that’s not how this works.”

“Oh, you’re not running,” Taako says brightly. “We’re kidnapping you.” 

—

“Okay, here’s how this is going to go,” Taako says, clapping his hands. “Merle, you and Davenport are going to hold down the fort. We need to keep Davenport away from our possibly extensive future death crimes, just in case, and I’d rather not start an inter-godly war.”

Merle scoffs. “Yeah, that’s fair, that could get interesting. Don’t worry, Lucretia,” he says kindly, “We’ve got this.”

Lucretia doesn’t acknowledge him from her position curled into Magnus’s side. She can’t _believe_ they’re doing this. 

“Barry, Lup, okay, here’s where shit starts to get complicated,” Taako says, and Lup starts laughing, near hysterical.

“Uh, yeah, bro, you _think?_ ” Barry moves to comfort her, but his spectral hand goes straight through her back. 

“No, look, we can make this work,” Taako continues. “You’re both kind of experts in death crime loopholes? So yeah, Her Royal Raven-ness is going to send you after us. But there’s a difference between following the spirit and the letter of the law, and I think you know that.”

Taako deflates a bit. “Um, also, on top of all that, you’re going to have to deal with Kravitz. I kinda… ran out on him this morning? So he’s going to be freaking out, and he’s also a lot more… by-the-book than you are.”

“You mean he actually gives a shit about the Raven Queen’s rules,” Barry says wryly. “Fucking lawful goods.” 

Taako just shrugs, and then turns to the next task at hand. “Magnus, you and I are the kidnapping team. We’re taking Lucretia and running, and that’s all the rest of you get to know about that, just in case.” Magnus puts an arm around Lucretia, and she sighs.

“Do I get a say in this?” she asks softly.

“Nope!” Magnus chirps, and then he looks a little more serious. “I mean, yes, absolutely, to an extent. Just not about the fact that we’re doing this, because we’re making our own decisions, okay? We know what we’re getting into.”

She sighs again and doesn’t say anything else. This is a fight for later, and she’s _tired_.

“Okay, last team!” Taako says, and then looks up at the ceiling. “Hey kiddo, you can come out now.”

“Alright!” One of the vent covers slides open and down plummets Angus McDonald, who would have landed smack on top of Merle if not for a carefully timed levitation spell. “Hello sirs and ma’ams!”

Lup sighs. “Carey, I know you’re up there too. Taako, did you plan this?”

Carey slides down out of the vent to perch on the sofa. “He didn’t, actually, I have no idea how you knew we were up there.”

“Because I’m a really fucking good wizard, that’s how,” Taako grins, but there’s something forced about it. “I’m assuming the rest of you all are outside?”

“Yeah, Killian’s outside, Avi’s firing up the cannons, and Brad went after Captain Davenport,” Carey says. “We doing some death crimes today?”

“Well, kind of - you’re technically helping us not do death crimes,” Taako says, ignoring Carey’s quiet “aw, shucks.” “Hey boy detective, you’re on research duty. We want any instance, ever, of someone getting out of a contract with Her Birdliness. Top priority, we need that as fast as possible. Carey, you and Killian are with him, for body-guarding, the legitimacy of adulthood, and thievery skills.”

Carey grins sharply. “Oh, this could get interesting fast. What about Avi and Brad?”

“Keep them doing what they’re doing. Avi’s in charge of transport, for us and also you if you need it. Brad can help Merle and Cap’n’port, he’s good at that.”

Lup watches her brother, some kind of defeat in her eyes. “Hey Taako, rough estimate on how long it’ll take for Kravitz to figure out you came here to warn Creesh and then show up out of a misplaced sense of duty?”

Taako dramatically mimes checking his wrist. Lup’s probably the only one who can see his hands shaking ever so slightly. “Uh, about now, probably. Oh, speak of the devil- reaper - whatever,” Taako yelps as a pitch black portal begins to form in the center of the room. “Magnus! Time to go!”

“On it!” Magnus shouts, and he very gently scoops up Lucretia in his arms and starts running for the cannons, Taako hot on his heels. 

Lucretia sighs again, looking back over Magnus’s shoulder as one skeletal arm emerges from the portal, scythe in hand, and is immediately tackled by Carey. Yeah, “interesting” sure is one way of putting it.


	2. Demeter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucretia, Taako, and Magnus are on the run, and who better to help commit death crimes than two dead criminals? And Sloane and Hurley are _very_ good at what they do.

For the first time in a very long time, Lucretia watches the gentle white glow of the moon base shrink above her, until it really does just look like a moon. The transport orbs aren’t very large, and so she’s still cradled in Magnus’s arms as they float down to the ground. She closes her eyes tight, but opens them when she feels something brush her head and settle on her chest.

Taako pulls his arms away. “There. Now no one can find us, as long as we keep those on.”

Lucretia looks down and sees a small golden crystal hanging by a cord around her neck. Taako’s just finished putting one on Magnus and is putting on his own when Lucretia can almost feel Magnus frown behind her. “Wait, why do you have these? What are these?”

“Tracking spell inhibitors, homie,” Taako quips, attention now focused on his bag. “I’m always ready to go off the grid, remember? Fantasy Scout motto, be prepared and all that jazz.” 

“I refuse to believe you were a Fantasy Scout,” Magnus mutters. 

“Okay, so maybe that was a lie,” Taako admits, pulling buttons and scarves and all kinds of knick-knacks out of a bag that really should be too small for that. “But I bet you totally were, right?”

“Hell yeah I was!” Magnus says, looking affronted. “Got all the way up to my Silver Dragon award!”

“Yeah, I have no idea what the fuck that means.”

Lucretia giggles, imagining a tiny Magnus (but still with full sideburns) in the uniform of a Junior Fantasy Scout. “I bet you collected neckerchiefs, didn’t you?” 

“Sure did!” Magus says, proud. “I have a whole box full, back… home…” 

He trails off, and Lucretia mentally kicks herself. Taako’s back to studiously ignoring her and Magnus just seems sad. Great, she keeps making things better and better. 

Finally, though, Taako finds whatever it was he was looking for and brings it to his face. “Hey guys, it’s me,” he says. “We’re gonna be landing just out of town in a few minutes, can you come pick us up? Yeah, I know it’s short notice, but it’s also dubiously illegal and could get kinda wild soon, and that’s your jam, right? Thanks!”

He drops the Stone of Farspeech and Magnus asks, “Okay, first off, who was that, but also, how are they going to find us if tracking spells don’t work?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Taako laughs. “I don’t remember how to fly this thing, so we’re about to make a pretty good sized beacon. On that note, BRACE!”

Taako throws three levers on the console and then himself against the side of the bubble as a bright green forest grows below them. Magnus sighs, disentangling himself from Lucretia. Mere moments before they would hit the ground at a breakneck speed, Magnus flips the levers back and pushes two buttons and the orb drifts to a gentle landing on the forest floor.

He grins over at Taako. “Vehicle proficiency, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Taako gripes. “C’mon, we don’t have all day.”

He clambers out of the bubble, Magnus and Lucretia following behind. Magnus starts ripping up grass from the ground and halfheartedly throwing it over the orb in some attempt at camouflage. 

“Really? You’re really- okay, step back,” Taako says disdainfully, and with a flick of his wand plants begin to grow over the bubble, obscuring it completely. He raises an eyebrow at Magnus. “Magic, remember?”

“Yeah, fuck you,” Magnus says amicably, and Lucretia holds back a stressed giggle. They continue into the woods, Taako erasing their steps, until they reach a small clearing. The sun shines down gently on vibrant green grass spotted with pink wildflowers, and Lucretia, exhausted, drops down to sit in a mess of lupines. Magnus sits down beside her, and as Lucretia leans against him, Taako walks into the center of the meadow and sends a stream of golden sparks into the air. And then they wait.

After a time, the gentle twittering of birds and brush of wind through the trees is joined by a low growl, a dull roaring. Taako, still standing in the middle off the meadow, grins and calls out, “Our ride’s here!” 

There’s a crash, a metallic roar, and Lucretia scrambles to her feet as a vehicle barrels into view. It’s a wagon, of sorts, but a wagon in the same way that a copper dragon is a lizard. It’s close to ten feet tall, a long silver chassis perched atop enormous wheels. And it’s being driven by two dryads, brown and pink and familiar. 

“Aw come on!” Taako shouts. “You had to bring the fantasy minivan?”

“Hurley! Sloane!” Magnus yells happily. “Hey!”

“Hey yourself,” Sloane calls, jumping down from the car with ease and pulling Magnus in for a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too!”

“And yeah, we brought the minivan,” Hurley says, joining them. “You didn’t tell us how many people to expect, and knowing you it could be a small army.”

“Nah, just us today,” Taako says, gesturing at Magnus and Lucretia. Uncomfortable, she gives a small wave.

“Hey there!” Hurley says, chipper. “I don’t actually think we’ve ever formally met, but you’re the Director, right?”

Lucretia smiles awkwardly. “Please, just call me Lucretia.”

“Alright, this is great, but we’re kind of on a tight schedule here,” Taako says, looking around the meadow as if he expects something to jump out at him. “Can we move?”

“Okay, one thing first, before we get going,” Hurley says, serious. “This is dubiously illegal by whose laws? I _will_ arrest you if it’s something fucked up.”

“Er, the laws of the Raven Queen, life and death, all that jazz?” Magnus says, somewhat nervous.

Hurley breaks into a grin. “Oh, that’s fine then. C’mon, get in the car!”

The ride into Goldcliff is too loud to talk, so Lucretia just spends it staring at the trees outside. It’s been a while since she’s seen this much green. But soon forest gives way to cityscapes and cobbled roads and before she knows it, they’re at an unassuming townhouse attached to a very big, _very_ assuming garage. 

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” Hurley asks. 

“Well, we need a plan, and maybe a getaway vehicle,” Taako says. “We’re kinda winging this.”

“Alright, I can help with that,” Hurley says, nodding. “Magnus, you’re the vehicle guy-“ she ignores Magnus’s whispered “told you!” and Taako’s raised middle finger- “So why don’t you both come with me to the garage so we can sort some shit out.”

Sloane turns to Lucretia. “No offense, but you look dead on your feet,” she says. “While they work that out, want to come inside, have some tea?”

“Tea sounds wonderful,” she says, with a slight smile. It really does.

Sloane helps Lucretia down from the wagon and escorts her inside the home. It’s cozy inside, full of natural light and simple furnishings. Also, every single surface is covered in mechanical parts.

“Oops, sorry about this,” Sloane says, sweeping some grease-covered metal… bits off the kitchen table with a clatter. “I’d say we’re usually better but no, we really aren’t.”

Lucretia laughs. “That’s fair, one of my friends is the same way with mechanical things. You’d like him, I think, even though he focuses more on aerial stuff.” 

Sloane fiddles with a kettle in the kitchen as Lucretia takes a seat. “Oh man, you’ll have to introduce us - some of the assholes in the battlewagon circuit have started using flying machines and I refuse to let them get ahead of us. We’ve got a reputation to uphold, you know?”

“Come visit some time, I’m sure Avi would love to meet you both. He’s a big fan.”

Before long, Sloane comes over to the table with two large mugs of steaming pink tea. For a few moments, they just sit there quietly, sipping the faintly floral, spicy tea. It’s nice, and Lucretia could sit here for hours, almost forget the reason she’s here… But then the silence is broken, because most people are a bit more extroverted than Lucretia right now. 

“So, you been to Goldcliff before?” Sloane asks, curious. Lucretia winces.

“Yeah, uh, it’s been… a while. Last time was, well, when Bane was promoted to Captain.”

Sloane stares, or Lucretia thinks she does, it’s a little hard to tell what with the blank wood eyes. “That was what, eight years ago?”

“I don’t have time to get out much,” Lucretia answers, defensive. Sloane just sits back and looks pensive.

After a minute, she says, “You mean _didn’t_ , right?”

“What?”

“You said you _don’t_ have time. But the Relics are found, the Hunger is done, you’re doing your Bureau of Benevolence thing, which like, that’s cool, but you can take breaks now, right?” Sloane’s tone is carefully neutral.

“What? No, I-“ Lucretia stops, rubbing her eyes. “There’s still so much that has to get done.”

“But you have a team now, right?” 

“I mean, yes, but I can’t just push all my work onto them so I can what, go gallivanting off for nothing in particular?”

“Lucretia?” Sloane asks, quiet. “Besides Story and Song… when was the last time you left the base?”

It takes her too long to work that out, and by the time she comes to a rough estimate, Sloane’s just _looking_ at her, and she can’t take this. “Does it matter? It’s not like I’d be welcome down here, anyway,” Lucretia mutters. 

“Okay, there’s a whole lot to unpack there, and hoo boy I am not a therapist,” Sloane says, rocking back in her chair. “Wanna elaborate on that one?”

She’s so _tired_. “Sloane, what is there to say. I fucked up, I fucked up real bad. And because I fucked up, because I couldn’t do what I had to do, entire cities are dead. So no, I don’t think people exactly want to see me. I’m the reason the Relics were a danger for ten whole years more than they should have been.” 

“Lucretia, listen to me, please.” Sloane says, and her tone is firm. “Yeah, I know I’m kind of being an asshole about this, but I think you need to hear this.”

“Why?” Lucretia snaps. “I literally just met you, why should I care what you say?”

Sloane sighs. “Because I am the only surviving person who was completely thralled by one of the Relics.”

Lucretia stops, jaw dropped. How had she not considered…

“I mean, I’m not the only survivor, period,” Sloane continues. “June lived - she’s doing well now, you know? We write sometimes - but the Temporal Chalice is fucked up, she wasn’t exactly thralled. You can ask her more about that one, but that’s the short version. And Lucas is also weird, because his thing was his own choice, pretty much without influence from the Philosopher’s Stone.” She pauses for a moment. “I admit, I can’t know for sure about the Relic Wars or before things went to shit with Brian-“ Lucretia winces at that- “But like. The only survivor of long term or complete thrall is me. Well, maybe one other person, but let’s stick with me for now.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucretia whispers. “If I had been faster…” 

But Sloane puts up a hand. “Nope, see, this is exactly what I wanted to stop. Lucretia?” she says, leaning forward. “I am one of the only people who you can’t ignore saying this, so I’m saying this.” And she pulls Lucretia in for a hug. “This wasn’t your fault.” 

Lucretia freezes. “But…”

“Yeah, I know it’s all a complicated clusterfuck,” Sloane says, gently letting go. “I know that you feel responsible because you put yourself in a place where you were the only one who could do anything. And I’m not here to get into that, that’s not really what I was part of. But as far as the Relics go… yeah, that’s not your fault. Not alone. You did what you could, and I don’t blame you for, well,” and she looks over her own hands, rough brown bark and pale wood grain, “this whole situation. I don’t, and neither does June, and neither does Lucas.”

“Is he… is he doing okay?” Lucretia asks, tentative. “Is he still afraid to come see me? I know I… after the whole faked death thing, I don’t really know where we stand, and I don’t want to hurt him.”

Sloane smiles gently. “I think he’d really, really like to see you. It’s gonna be a little weird, not gonna lie, but he misses you. You’re family.”

Lucretia has to fight back tears at that. “I… I miss him too. I don’t… I’m not sure how much time I’m going to have here, or if there’s visiting hours in the Astral Plane, but let him know I’d like to see him?”

Something in Sloane’s expression cracks at that. “I’ll tell him.”

They return to a peaceful silence, Lucretia sipping the dregs of her tea, until Magnus rushes into the room. “Okay, Taako says we need to go now, and uh I agree, because apparently a portal just opened up outside of town and that means they’re onto us,” he rambles. Lucretia stands, almost knocking over her mug.

“Shit,” she says eloquently, and then, “Sloane, will you be okay? I’d really rather not get you in trouble with the Raven Queen, given, you know…” and she gestures at Sloane’s whole body in general.

Sloane cracks a smile. “Nah, we’ve got that good good amnesty going for us. We can buy you some extra time, too. It’ll be fun!” 

Lucretia follows an excited Sloane into the garage, which is somehow even bigger than it seemed on the outside. Every square foot of it is covered in vehicles of all shapes and styles that Lucretia can barely comprehend, let alone try to describe. But Hurley and Taako are standing besides three which have been pulled out onto the street: a low-riding pale pink one with ram’s horns spouting flames, a simple motorized wooden cart, and a gleaming black motorcycle. 

“Aw thanks babe, you know that’s my favorite!” Sloane says, ducking down to give her girlfriend a kiss on the cheek. Hurley blushes. 

“Magnus, you ready to drive?” Taako asks, hopping into the wooden cart as Sloane swings herself onto the motorcycle. Magnus nods, but he looks a little dejected at how their ride compares to the others.

“Aw, don’t worry, Magnus,” Hurley says. “I know it looks boring, but it’s got some tricks up its sleeve!” And she winks. 

Immediately looking more enthused, Magnus climbs up into the driver’s seat and starts pushing buttons. As the cart putters to life, Hurley hops into hers and the engine _roars_ , shooting flames high into the air. Taako lets out a whoop, and Magnus yells, “HAVE FUN RAISING HELL!”

And then with squealing tires and screaming engines, Sloane and Hurley shoot off to the edge of town, cheering all the while. Lucretia smiles, confused but fond, as their own cart gently starts to rattle in the opposite direction, out of town and into (for her) uncharted territory.


	3. Interlude: Orpheus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davenport breaks. Merle listens. Angus is, in fact, only twelve years old. (or, what the B team are up to)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for discussion of Davenport's decade and discussions of a loved one potentially dying.

Merle’s out the door before he realizes that actually, he has no clue where Davenport might be headed. This is the first time he’s returned to the moon base since the Day of Story and Song, and Merle has no idea what favors Taako must have had to call in to get him here at all. He doesn’t exactly have good memories associated with the place.

Still, Merle does a cursory investigation of places like his old bedroom, which is eerily stark. A single bed with a warm red blanket, an empty bookshelf, and a few identical BoB uniforms hanging in the closet are all that remain in the room. He’s not sure if this is the remnants of what Davenport didn’t want to bring with him, or all that was in here to begin with. Either way it’s unsettling. 

He sweeps the entire moon, room by increasingly less likely room, so it takes some time for him to make his way into an older, now unused part of the moon base. Fisher’s tank, once brilliant and glowing, now stands dry and bare in the center of their room. And standing straight in front of it, staring into nothingness, is a small red and orange figure.

He doesn’t turn around as Merle enters. “I don’t know how I am, or how I feel, before you start,” Davenport says, with a calm that seems detached and unreal. Merle hangs back.

“Yeah, a bit of a stupid question,” he almost chuckles. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Want me to leave?”

“…No.”

Merle sits down by the door, one eye on the hallway and one on Davenport. A minute passes, then two, then ten, and still Davenport stands. Brad comes by the door, and Merle waves him on with a series of quiet hand motions that he hopes conveys “not right now, stay on call, maybe later, do we have cookies left?” 

Davenport stands, and Merle waits. Time passes. And then, suddenly, Davenport starts _laughing._

“I feel - I feel _grateful_ , and isn’t that fucked up?” he chokes out. “I’m _grateful_ that she didn’t- that she stopped- while I was- _FUCK!”_

He punches the tank. It makes a deep, hollow ringing sound, and as Davenport slowly crumples to the floor, Merle casually prepares a Cure Wounds. 

“She took- she took _everything_ from me,” he whispers. “I think I might hate her for that. I know I hate that she did that. I remember it, you know?”

Merle nods, uncomfortable. He’s not sure what to say.

“I remember it all, and I remember none of it, because there was nothing for me _to_ remember. I couldn’t… it’s _static._ I could see, I could observe, but it meant _nothing._ I had no context. I didn’t even have _myself._ ”

Merle winces, his mind echoing with choruses of “I’m Davenport!” and memories of laughter. “Did you… were you there, when…”

“When she sold her fucking soul so I could keep mine?” Davenport asks harshly, then sighs. “No. I don’t… I would remember seeing that.” 

He’s silent for a few more moments. “She destroyed me. She broke me. But she’s still… she’s still her. And fuck, this is the robot plane all over again, isn’t it? Because it _worked_. She kept us alive, and now we saved the world, undid our mistakes, took down the Hunger. She did it. And the costs… ten years of my life, on that kind of scale, not that bad, right? Not if those were your two options?” 

Davenport’s clenched fists are turning white. “It worked. With minimal collateral. And I don’t think I’ll ever know if there was a better way.”

Merle doesn’t either, so he just sits down next to Davenport and slings an arm over his shoulder. In a while, Brad will come back with cookies, and they can talk about it. About the bright and promising girl he personally selected for the mission. About the brave young woman who fought her way through a hundred years, who flew the Starblaster through sheer force of will alone. About the terrified woman who made this decision, truly thinking it the only option. About the old, fragile woman who tried to keep them safe, keep them alive in a fog of ignorance for a decade.

But for now, they just sit. 

—

“Oh, for the love of- _please_ don’t touch that- oh, how the fuck did you get in here?!”

Artemis Sterling, most powerful man in Faerun, definitely does not shriek at the sight of intruders in his library. Not at all.

Killian waves. “Dude, she’s a rogue, do you even have to ask?”

“Nah, that’s fair,” Carey grins down from atop a bookshelf. “I mean, _I’m_ not the one who picked the lock.”

“Hello, sir!” 

Sterling sighs. “Hello, Angus.” He puts his head in his hands. “You are aware that I have a Stone of Farspeech, correct? And an agreement with Lucretia? And I could have just _let you in_ if you had _asked?_ ”

Angus’s smile wavers. “We didn’t have enough time for that, sir!” 

Killian mouths _“I’ll explain later,”_ eyes surprisingly serious, and Sterling stiffens. 

“Okay. What do you need?” 

“Myths, legends, maybe some necromantic texts, whatever you’ve got about escaping the jaws of death!” Angus seems remarkably chipper given his research subject. 

Sterling sighs. He seems to do that a lot whenever these people come around. “Myths and legends are six rows over, second shelf from the top. Necromancy is in the back, pull on the statue’s arm and it’ll open up the door in the wall.”

“Ooh, secret passages, neat!” Angus stands from his perch next to Carey. As the rogue deftly leaps across the rows of bookshelves like a set of stepping stones, Angus says, “Killian, catch!” 

Taking a solid ten more years off of Sterling’s life, the twelve year old throws himself from the bookshelves, landing in Killian’s arms with an “Oof!” Seemingly unfazed by this, she jogs off in the direction of her wife, and in a few moments he hears, “Killian, throw!” 

It only takes a moment for the orc woman to return, and when she does, her face has lost any levity. “Is there a place we can talk in private?” she asks in a low voice, glancing back from where she came. Carey’s laughter rings through the library, loud enough to mask their speech. 

Sterling nods. “Yes, here, I have a study just off the library.” Quietly, he leads her there, where she collapses into an over-stuffed sofa. Sterling joins her - he has a feeling he’s going to want to sit down for this.

“Okay, you _cannot_ let Angus know anything we discuss here, okay?” Killian says, face set. “Because we’re going to need your help, in more ways than one.”

She describes, briefly, the situation - the deal, the desperation, the time limit. Lucretia’s decisions, Taako’s actions, the plan now, and the people involved. 

“Artemis - can I call you Artemis?”

“Sure, I’m pretty sure that formality is discarded once you break into someone’s home.”

“Artemis, what do you know about Angus’s family?”

Sterling blinks. “Um, nothing, actually. I think he has a grandfather, right? That was in the Story?”

Killian sighs. “We don’t know, honestly. He’s been alarmingly good at hiding his past, and we legitimately can’t figure out who was supposed to be responsible for him. So for all intents and purposes, since the Rockport Limited debacle, the Bureau of Balance, Benevolence now, has been his family. And Lucretia… she’s the closest he has to a mom.”

“Well, fuck,” Sterling says, eloquently. 

“Yeah, just about.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Killian looks Sterling dead in the eye. “Because we need you. Because Angus thinks he can fix this. And so one of two things is going to happen here. Your library is our best hope for any kind of historical evidence, any kind of precedent for this. You know your library better than us, you have connections, working with you is our best shot at making this work, of saving her.”

Killian pauses, and Sterling gently asks, “And the other?”

“We don’t…the odds…” And Killian’s voice breaks. “This probably _won’t_ work, Artemis. Maybe we’ll find a solution. Maybe. But we’re talking about a magically binding contract with the Goddess of Death herself, and we’re good, okay, but we probably aren’t _that_ good. Lucretia… we have to accept that she’s probably not going to make it out of this.”

Sterling awkwardly puts an arm around Killian’s shaking shoulders. She takes a breath. “The seven and Angus and the Bureau are good at what we do, and that’s the problem. He’s made it through the apocalypse, he’s seen the boys and the BoB take down every Relic, survive every year of the Century, he himself managed to uncover a massive magical conspiracy _twice._ He’s never… he’s never really _failed_ , Artemis. And this… he thinks he can fix this. He’s laughing out there, messing around, because he legitimately thinks this will be fine. He’s a _kid,_ Artemis, and he’s smart, but he’s a _kid_ with too-high expectations.” 

Killian takes a breath, and Sterling knows where this is going. 

“So either you can help us save her, or you can help us when Angus realizes we can’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I’m currently abroad in Chile, and trying to balance regular school things, my mental and physical health, seeing the country, and accidentally being stuck in the middle of a revolution, so this is not exactly going to have any sort of posting schedule at all. That being said, thank you for sticking around for six months, and this chapter was on the shorter side but ooh boy the next one’s a doozy… whenever it gets finished.


	4. Odysseus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucretia started this with a single choice, and now she has to choose how to end it. But not alone - Taako knows an expert in this matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm not sure what exactly to say for this warning, but I know it needs to be here. There is not a suicide attempt, because I'm not going that dark in this fic, but there is something that could be considered akin to one. It makes sense in context, read with caution. In addition, there's references to Magnus's self sacrificing canon situation, and the whole chapter's pretty intense.

The wagon rattles and bumps along the rough dirt roads beyond Goldcliff, trees passing quickly past Lucretia’s staring eyes. She’s huddled in the back of the cart, tired and struggling to process the day’s events. Magnus gleefully helms the cart as Taako backseat drives, bickering with each other about petty choices. Hours pass this way, as pine forest fades into mountain chaparral that dries and fragments into true desert. The color of the soil slowly warms, from a dusty brown in the forest to a warm, rich red hue. That alone tells Lucretia where they’re going, and it’s not long after that they find themselves trundling along the main street of the quiet town of Refuge. 

The cart pulls up alongside the Davy Lamp, and Taako deftly jumps down from the cart, knocking briskly on a side door. It opens, and Taako is immediately pulled into a hug which he sputters indignantly about but doesn’t resist. “Ren! Hello, yes, I guess it’s okay to see you too!”

Ren releases her flustered mentor, waving brightly at the cart. “Hi Magnus! Hi Lucretia! Taako’s told me the gist, y’all’d better come inside!”

They’re ushered up a back staircase of the Davy Lamp, Ren waving Magnus and Lucretia up to the top as she pulls Taako into her office for what she claims with a nefarious glint in her eye to be “just some good-ol’ fashioned catchin’ up!”

The room at the top of the stairs is simple but neat; four beds, a washbasin, and a few yellowed windows looking outer the town. Making is way to one, Magnus sighs, staring out the window with a mix of love and sadness in his eyes. 

Lucretia walks over, gently touching his arm. “Magnus? You okay?”

He keeps staring out over the town, at the glows of lamp-lights warming as the sky dims to a warm red-black. A wistful smile tugs at his lips. “Lucretia… you went to Raven’s Roost, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says, softly. “I did, when… yeah.” Refuge is all reds and oranges to Raven’s Roost’s sandy browns, but the similarities are unmistakeable. Sweeping cliffs, desert warmth, and a close-knit community that’s a family in all but name. 

“I come back here a bunch, you know?” he continues. “It’s not… I can’t go back. I had that choice. I chose to stay, and _gods_ do I stay up some nights hating myself for it. But… look at what would have been lost.” His hand waves over the town. “New life. Growth. Refuge… Refuge saw as much shit as Raven’s Roost, and it has the opportunity to rebuild, to become something better. I can’t take that away. She doesn’t want me to, anyway. There’s no rush.”

“She… _doesn’t?_ ” Lucretia asks, puzzling at the verb tense. “You mean… Julia, right?”

“Yeah, Jules,” Magnus grins, something bittersweet and soft in his eyes. “Back during everything… Kravitz has talked to her. He sneaks letters for us, sometimes, when he can get away with it. She has a house, a forge, and a woodshop waiting for me to get there. But she’s in no rush, and neither am I, anymore. I know I’ll see her eventually.”

Magnus could warm a room with his lovesick smiles, but Lucretia feels as if her stomach has frozen to ice. “That’s… that’s amazing, Magnus. I’m really glad.”

The evening quiets, conversation slowed to a gentle halt. They ready for and climb into their respective beds, Magnus dozing off with some truly impressive snoring. But Lucretia can’t sleep. She can’t stop turning over that conversation in her head. And eventually, she can’t take it anymore. 

Silently, she climbs out of bed and slips on her shoes. Creeping her way down the stairs, she barely breathes - she can see a glimmer of light from Ren’s office, hear the murmur of voices. But she makes her way out of the small side door of the Davy Lamp unnoticed.

Lucretia shivers as she quietly steps through the sleeping town of Refuge. The desert is cold at night, colder than she’d anticipated. But it won’t matter soon, anyway. She makes her way toward the edge of town, until she stands besides the statues. She can’t stand to look at their faces. Instead, she looks up at the inscription on the gate.

_“By Their Sacrifice, Our Home is Made Safe.”_

She steels herself, nodding sharply in a private decision, and steps out into the open desert. Abandoning the worn dirt road, she follows no path or guide. She walks through sagebrush and cacti she can’t hope to name, along the inclines of the hard-packed sand until finally, she can’t stand to walk any more.

Lucretia collapses onto her knees, staring up at the stars, at the moons. The world around her is silent, the desert stretching out dark and endless before her. She exhales, once, and her hands go to her throat. Slowly, and almost with ceremony, she begins to lift the charm against scrying from her neck.

Two things occur in quick succession. First, with an electric shock she recognizes immediately as spellwork, her arms are frozen by her head, before she can remove the necklace. However, she hardly has time to recognize the Hold Person spell before she’s bodily tackled to the ground, a couple hundred pounds of human sending her sprawling in the dirt. Her bare arms grinding across the rough desert sands and something in her ribs crunching, she can’t hold back a shriek. “FUCKING OW!” 

“Sorry not sorry!” Magnus shouts, wrapping his arms around her torso, pinning her own arms. “What the FUCK, Creesh?”

“Magnus, you can let go,” Taako says, his voice venomously soft. “My spell’s doing the job. You know, keeping Lucretia from undoing _everything_ we’ve done for her.”

 _“I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS!”_ Lucretia nearly screams from her crumpled position. Magnus, beginning to let her go, stumbles back. She blinks hard, tears dripping onto the thirsty sands. 

“I didn’t ask you to do this,” she whispers up at them, voice rough. Magnus looks horrified and hurt, and Taako’s eyes are wide in shock. “You didn’t give me a choice. I made this deal, I pay the consequences, that’s how this was _supposed_ to work. I refuse… I refuse to let you risk _everything_ to solve a problem I created for myself.”

She’s staring at Magnus now, almost pleading, and his face is white in horror. Taako glances quickly between them, hardened gaze settling on Magnus. “Mags, buddy, you seem to know what the fuck is going on here, care to share with the class?” 

“I… you… Jules… oh, _fuck_ ,” Magnus nearly whispers. “I… that’s not what I meant! That’s not why I told you that!”

“Taako,” Lucretia says bluntly, “The greatest thing Magnus wants in life is to see his wife again when he dies. You know Reapers, you know the Queen’s law better than us, what would you say is the sentence for aiding and abetting a fugitive?” 

He freezes for a moment, and teeth clenched hisses _”fuck.”_

“I can’t let that happen,” she begs. “If I… I can turn myself in, and say- if I say this was my idea, you’ll be okay. I can take the fall, okay? I can’t keep dragging you into my mistakes,” she almost whispers. 

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because Taako’s face, formerly open with shock and horror, shutters. “No.”

“What?”

 _”No,”_ he reiterates. “No, fuck no, fuck all of this fucking bullshit. Magnus?”

“Yeah?” His voice still faint with shock, Magnus shakily makes his way over to Taako. 

The elf punches him on the shoulder. “Can you go to Paloma? Eat some scones, drink some tea, take a breather. And can you send… you know… over to the Davy Lamp? I think we need to move up our timetable.”

“I.. yeah,” Magnus says, his posture relaxing a hint with an actual task at hand. He can’t seem to take his eyes off Lucretia, though. “I’ll get them. And you’ll… take her to a healer, right?”

It’s at about that point Lucretia takes stock of her situation. Specifically, the unpleasant sensation that she now recognizes as the tackiness of blood on her arms, the grit of sand on open wounds. After all, Magnus is a fighter - even when well meaning, he can do some damage. Like cause some mean road rash.

Magnus didn’t come out of that unscathed either, but he doesn’t seem to care. 

“Homie, I _am_ a healer,” Taako proclaims. “I can handle this. Go to Paloma.”

Nodding, he rushes off.

Taako walks over to Lucretia, who is _still_ immobilized on the ground. “If I let you up, are you going to try again?”

“I don’t understand,” she whispers. “I don’t _understand._ ” 

Taako sighs. “I’ll explain. Promise. But first Magnus needs to get his head together and you need to talk to a friend here. Context, ya’know?” 

He reaches out a hand. “Come with me?”

The spell dissolves, and Lucretia slowly stumbles upright. She takes Taako’s hand to pull her to standing and as she does she feels the coolness of a Cure Wounds slide up her arms, smoothing the cuts to weeks-old scars. Not new - healing spells only work so well, especially on the elderly. But healing. 

Taako doesn’t let her hand go, just gently pulls her back to town. Head ringing with silence and confusion, she lets him. 

They make their way down darkened streets, deep black skies scattered with more stars than Lucretia’s ever known. All the lanterns are dimmed, their owners long abed - except one. A single, flickering lantern shines from the Davy Lamp’s main room.

Taako stops at the door. “I’ll be next door, with Ren. This is something I can’t help with, something you two need to talk through on your own.”

He waits and watches as Lucretia hesitantly pushes the door open with a creak that pierces the silence, and steps through to the room beyond. At first she’s blinded by a lamp in the center of the saloon, too much to see the figure who sits beside it. But as her eyes adjust, she takes them in a few features at a time. Dark hair, split in two braids. Warm brown skin, washed out by the light. Dark eyes in a young face. And a warm, goldenrod yellow work shirt.

June smiles, slow and warm. “Hi, Lucretia. It’s good to meet you.” 

She sighs. “Hi, June. June, right?”

“Yup.”

“Why, exactly, did Taako drag you out of bed at fuck-all-o’clock am?” She’s annoyed, and stressed, and no longer understands what’s happening here. Shifting her weight, she moves to turn, to walk back out, to ask Taako what the hell he thinks he’s doing here. 

But June stops her with a quiet yet firm, “Wait.” She looks Lucretia over. “How old are you?”

Lucretia laughs at that non-sequitur, near hysterics. “Now _that’s_ a loaded question.” Lucretia looks down at her hands, ink-stained and wrinkled, and counts back the decades. 

But June takes her hand and stops her. “Yeah, I know,” she says gently, and Lucretia realizes with a shock that she maybe actually does. “How old do you _feel?_ ”

Lucretia half collapses into a seat, frozen, before turning the question back. “How old… were you? Are you?”

June smiles. “I was seven. Then… I’m not sure, really. Seven years frozen and I was old and grey and frail, then seven more years returning and I was fourteen. Currently, physically, I’m fifteen. Mentally… twenty-two or so, plus or minus a few decades?” 

Lucretia almost laughs. “Depending on who you ask, or even when you ask, I guess that puts me somewhere between thirty-two, one hundred and thirty-two, fifty-two, or hell, there’s too many possibilities. Right now?” she pauses, eyes sad. “Definitely over a hundred.” 

“Man, fuck time magic, right?” June asks wryly, and Lucretia snorts. 

“Yeah, seriously.” Something in Lucretia’s sardonic smile cracks at that. “I’m sorry about that, by the way.” 

“Nope, we’re not having this discussion,” June chirps brightly. “For so many reasons. First off, I’ve had the whole emotional heart to heart with Magnus like, a year ago, and I’m not really up for that much crying right now. But the short version - Magnus created the Chalice and brought it to us. And even so he’s not at fault - he didn’t know, nobody knew, and he may be its creator but he is not the Chalice. You hardly had anything to do with what happened here. It’s not your fault.” 

Lucretia stares. “You’ve spoken to Sloane, haven’t you.” It’s not a question. 

June grins. “Yep! We have a club, kind of, a little relic thrall support group. Me, Sloane, Lucas, the whole squad, ya’know. You should join!”

Lucretia makes a sound somewhere between a bitter laugh and a surprised cough. “I _really_ don’t think that would be appropriate.”

“Why?” And June looks so honestly confused and Lucretia can’t handle this.

“Because as kind and forgiving as you all are, I’m still responsible!” she almost shouts, voice thick with tears. “I ruined your lives, I am the exact thing you are trying to recover from! The Relics stole your lives from you, your agency, and made you do horrible things. And I am the reason they were out there to do that!”

June stares. “You need to talk to Lucas.” 

“..what?” 

“You need to talk to Lucas. Like, now.” 

“Can we not drag him into this little therapy road trip?” Lucretia asks, exasperated and frustrated and tired. 

“No, I think we need to,” June says, voice going hard, “Because you’re missing a really important piece of information that we all assumed you knew. But hey, ass of you and me, right? Fuck, goddamn it, I’m calling Lucas right now.” 

_“STOP.”_ Lucretia does yell, now, and June falls silent. “I’m fucking tired of this. I’m tired of being dragged around to different places, getting different people involved in this, never knowing what’s going on so people can hit me with random emotional bombshells. Tell me what the fuck is going on here, or I’m leaving.” 

June looks chastened. “Okay, fine. He could explain it better, but fine. I know Sloane tried to bring this up too, but you had enough on your plate then. Anyway, the short version - Sloane was thralled. Lucas wasn’t. I wasn’t. You maybe were.” 

Lucretia stares. “What.”

June sighs. “Have you spoken to Magnus about the Chalice? When it tried to convince them to use it? The Chalice doesn’t thrall. Most Relics do, right - they take over people, pull them into this shit. And Sloane’s the only person who’s survived that, because thrall makes people incredibly volatile and uncontrolled. Fuck, I mean, Sloane _didn’t_ survive it. She did actually die. Everyone who’s been thralled has died, usually in horrible and destructive ways.” 

“Yeah, I know, you don’t have to remind me,” Lucretia snaps. “Get on with it.”

“Okay, fine,” June snaps back, and Lucretia is horribly reminded that she’s still a teenager. “The Chalice doesn’t thrall. The Chalice _convinces,_ and that makes it by far the most dangerous of the Relics. It’s _sentient._ It doesn’t thrall, because it doesn’t have to. The Gauntlet, the Sash, all those, they’re dumb and they rely on magic to ensure their use. But all the Chalice has to do is tell someone they can fix things. They can save a crowd of innocents from poisoning, they can go back and save their wife. Why bother with magic when telling a little girl you can bring her father back works just as well?” 

Her voice is raised and she’s breathing hard, so she closes her eyes for a second to take a few breaths before continuing. “Once I picked up the Chalice, it was over, but I was never compelled to pick it up. I _chose._ And from there, it did its thing, it controlled me, and that fucking sucked. But it didn’t start with a thrall, and that’s important, for me, for Lucas, and for you.”

“The Chalice proves that the Relics have nuance. They can be a lot more insidious that we thought, they’re not just overwhelming magical force. They can thrall, they can convince, they can control, they can do any of that or none. They just do what they have to, and they can probably do more than we know, which is important for you and Lucas. Because they didn’t do anything to him.”

“How… how do you know this?” Lucretia asks, hoarse.

June’s eyes have too much behind them. “Because Lucas, Sloane, and I have spent the past few years researching the Relics _intensively._ I know your family made them, but no offense, you clearly didn’t fully understand them, because you let them be released the the world at large. Whereas the three of us have a very detailed understanding of precisely how they affect people. Lucas started researching in more detail after the thing with the Stone, and Sloane and I joined him later. That’s been most of what Lucas and I have been doing for the past year or so. We know the Relics better than anyone.”

“And that’s how we know the Philosopher’s Stone got lucky. It fell into the hands of someone who knew what it was, knew how to use it, and had an extremely strong reason to use it. Lucas chose to use the Stone, and it never took him over, because he did the Stone’s work for it.” 

“And Lucretia… that takes us to you. Because, well… You were scared, and you wanted to protect your family, and _gods_ do I get that. And that was all you. You made the choice to split your family, because people were dying and you were what, twenty-one years old?” 

Lucretia nods, head in her hands, and June continues. “That was bad. That didn’t end great, I am very aware of that fact and I’m not going to brush past that. But that’s only half of what you’re beating yourself up over, right? You’re upset that you hurt people, and you’re upset that it took you ten years to undo the damage.”

Lucretia doesn’t look up, but her voice is raw and pained. “Of course I am.”

“Yeah, that was probably not on you.”

“How the _fuck-_ “

“The Bulwark Staff. One of the first things you did was get the Staff back, and then you kept it with you. You spent ten years in close proximity with a Relic whose whole thing is protection. And in those ten years, you _knew_ that the only way to protect those you loved also happened to be the exact thing that would keep the Relics out in the world for as long as possible. We’re probably not ever going to know for certain, but, well… you might not have been thralled, but the three of us are pretty sure you were nudged.”

Lucretia doesn’t know when she started shaking. “I need- I need to leave. To think. I - _fuck._ “

June’s eyes are warm and sad. “Of course. I’ll leave you to it.” 

And she quietly steps out of the room, leaving Lucretia’s shattered worldview in her wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a lot of notes on this one. The main, obvious one being: was Lucretia thralled in canon?
> 
> I kinda have to break that down into a couple subcategories - specifically, did Griffin intend that, do I think that, and is that possible in canon? I don’t think Griffin intended Lucretia to be thralled. Themes of individual choice and the impacts of hard decisions are pretty important in taz, most notably in Eleventh Hour and Stolen Century. I think Griffin intended Lucretia’s choice to be solely her choice, influenced by a hundred years of death and uncertainty and nightmare. That’s also how I interpret the situation - it was her choice, only influenced by her knowledge and fear, not outside magical manipulation. But is it _possible_ , in the constraints of canon? Yes. We know so little about the lonely decade, it is entirely possible that after her choice, the Bulwark Staff got involved and kept things on the path Lucretia started. Do I think that actually happened, outside of the context of this fic? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ not sure! It’s wide open to interpretation!
> 
> On a different note, I also have a lot of opinions on Magnus’s connection to Refuge. I’ve covered his relationship with the concept of fate in my daemon au the stars are alive, and a possibility where June is related to Magnus in thirty years and running (when he found his way back home). Raven’s Roost and Refuge have a lot of interesting parallels, the least of which being that they’re both so shaped by the cliffs below and around them. I just think they’re neat. Also touched upon in a few of my other fics, I have very strong opinions regarding the Temporal Chalice and the ages of characters.
> 
> I’m home in the US again now, going back to college in early January. Will that make updates more consistent? Who knows!


End file.
